


Hart and Soul(mate)

by Galahard



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: I took a few years off Colin's age to get Harry's age, IDK this just got away from me THEY ALL DO, M/M, Soulmate AU, This is my non-silly soulmate au, aka I just like soulmate aus and we need more, because they shaved a few years off of Taron's to get Eggsy's, soul marks, time stamp, we need all of them
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 11:41:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3727504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Galahard/pseuds/Galahard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Children didn't really worry about soulmates. Parents generally helped their kids find their soulmates early on, matching the time stamp that appeared to another child's time of birth, seeing if the two corresponded, and then setting up play dates.</p><p>When he turned fifteen they put him in counseling, determined to make sure that he would adjust to society even though he would never know what it was like to have a person that complemented him in every way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hart and Soul(mate)

Children didn't really worry about soulmates. Parents generally helped their kids find their soulmates early on, matching the time stamp that appeared to another child's time of birth, seeing if the two corresponded, and then setting up play dates.

Primary school was blissful, carefree until Miranda came bubbling into class and proudly displayed the mark just above her knee, the small date and time from earlier that morning. Just like that Harry was the only one in the entire class without a soul mark. The only one without a soulmate.

It wasn’t immediate, but the looks began, slightly more mistrustful the longer it went, and he still didn’t get his soul mark. They were children, ignorant little creatures, not fully understanding what it meant to not have a soulmate but knowing it was different. Knowing it was weird. He wasn’t intentionally ostracized but as cliques formed he wasn’t among them.

When he turned twelve the students began their courses in learning to live with their soulmate, learning how to adjust to someone that was perfect for them, learning to curb the almost obsessive nature some developed. Harry was pulled aside for lessons in why some people didn’t have soulmates, and why that was okay. Perhaps they were older and had died before he was born. Perhaps there had been a miscarriage. Age differences of over twelve years were rare, so rare it was far more likely that he simply would never have one.

When he turned fifteen they put him in counseling, determined to make sure that he would adjust to society even though he would never know what it was like to have a person that complemented him in every way.

When he was sixteen they began to go over his other options. There were those that didn’t have soul marks just like him, and there were dating services designed to help them meet each other. There were people who had lost their soulmate and perhaps they were young enough that they would try to find at least an illusion of love. He didn’t care about the options, but he went through the motions all the same.

He adjusted well enough, and when a job presented itself that would have him risking his life on a regular basis he took it. It wasn’t as if someone was waiting for him.

\--------

Slamming the new clip into his gun Harry readied himself to charge across the alleyway, closing in on the man he’d been hunting for days. A few hired thugs weren’t going to deter him for long, but there could always be a stray bullet.

He waited and darted through the alley, firing as he tried to make it behind a dumpster closer to them and then swore as his the back of his shoulder seemed to burn. How a bullet could hit him there didn’t make sense, but then the sensation faded, a peculiar thought nudging at the back of his mind. The agent ignored it, focused on the mission, and it wasn’t until he had the information he needed, and the traitor on his way back to the people he’d doublecrossed, that Harry let the thought enter his mind. It was almost ludicrous, a hysterical feeling flooding through him as he stripped off his suit coat in a public restroom, following that by taking off his shirt and twisting to try to see it in the mirror.

Black print adorned his shoulder blade, spelling out the day’s date. 

04.03.1992 20:13:57 GMT

He celebrated his mark with a bottle of whisky when he was safely in his own home. There were really only two choices. Either he would meet his soulmate as a child, having to force himself from getting too involved in their life, knowing that he would despise himself if he started grooming his soulmate when they were so young, or going at least another sixteen years without them. Knowing they existed but not knowing so much as their name.

It wasn’t until late afternoon that he managed to drag himself to a soulmate agency, trying to ignore the pounding in his head as he waited in line for the next available shittily paid government employee.

Registering your mark was a requirement soon after you got it, and with his soulmate’s being born on them they would doubtlessly already be entered into the system.

He tried to ignore the looks he received while they escorted him to a small room, stripping down obediently so his mark could be tested to verify it’s authenticity and then catalogued. 

There, in the small room, feeling so small and insignificant he couldn’t help asking the question that had burned in his mind since he’d first seen the mark.

“Do you have a match registered?”

The technician nodded as she looked at a small screen. “Yes Mr. Hart. But, and I’m sure you’ll understand, the parents have sealed the records. They will not be available until your soulmate’s sixteenth birthday.”

It was hard not to laugh, but it made perfect sense. Of course they’d sealed the records. Any parent in their right mind would take one look at their newborn’s birthmark, see the year 1963, realize there was a twenty nine year age gap, and seal the records so no stranger could try to come swoop the child out of their arms.

“What I can tell you is that your soulmate is a boy. Would you like to leave your information public for them to be able to find?”

“Yes,” he murmured, trying not to sigh. “That will be fine.”

\--------

He’d just told a boy and his mother that his father was dead, and he felt calmer than he ever had. It was almost as if something inside his chest had loosened and he could breathe easily for the first time in years.

Delivering the news had been painful, the loss of Lee a true shame. He could have been invaluable to Kingsman, a wonderful agent and a way to move them forward as a unit.

Days later he was still thinking of the peace he’d felt, catching himself staring at a display of snowglobes on reduction in a shoppe’s window. He turned on his heel, stomach suddenly churning, and went home to boot up his personal computer.

Lee’s file was still available to him, and he moved through the information as quickly as he could, moving down to the family section. 

Wife: Michelle Unwin - 14.8.1974 

Son: Gary “Eggsy” Unwin - 04.03.1992

He stared at the screen before just turning it off. He couldn’t be sure, not without seeing the boy’s mark, but he’d almost certainly just gotten his soulmate’s father killed. 

One of the perks about working for an international spy agency was that no one batted an eye when he spent an extra hour at the gun range. At least he had made a decision when he left. The boy could find him whenever he wanted to, and he’d already given him a way to contact him if there was ever a need. 

For now he just had to hold back. The ball was in Eggsy’s court, and if he chose not to seek out an old man when he came of age then Harry would just have to respect that.

\--------

“Eggsy, no!” His mum rushed into his room, yanking the sharpie out of his hand. “Oh, your shirt’s a mess. What on earth were you thinking?!” 

As she drug him to the wc to try to tackle the smeared mess he’d made on his back he finally broke down. “Mum, some kids was saying its weird my mark has got such an early date on it.”

“Oh Eggsy,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “When you’ve got a soulmate all of that stuff doesn’t seem important any longer. Don’t worry about it darling boy. We’ll sort it out when the time comes.

Neither of them spoke again about how he was trying to turn the date on his back from 1963 to 1983.

\--------

“You think you’re fucking special? You ain’t nothing.”

Eggsy refused to cringe, digging deep and giving Dean a defiant look. When he’d been young he’d been foolish enough to think that maybe having a soulmate meant they knew when you were in trouble. When you got hurt.

He knew better now.

No knight was going to come riding in to rescue him from the shithole that was his life. It was all he could do not to clutch his dad’s medal, trying not to think about how the comfort that came from the medal seemed to come more from an impression of regret-filled brown eyes and a gentle smile than the memory of his father.

It was pointless to engage Dean when he was like this, far better to just let the man rant. “You go around putting on airs you little shit, but you ain’t nothing. Turned sixteen last week and not even your fucking cougar soulmate wants your arse.”

He bristled at the words, realizing too late he’d let the reaction show and Dean pounced. “Yeah, that’s right. But I’m your step-father you see. I’ve already seen your records. Seen your soulmate. I’ll introduce you to her some night, yeah? Got so many cats in her flat you can’t see the floor for the fur, but she puts on a good show for any lad with a tenner. Let Poodle fuck her for twenty quid.”

Dean laughed as Eggsy took a swing, grinning as he caught his hands and shoved his wrists together easily. “That’s right, I never gave you your birthday present. Why don’t you watch me fuck your soulmate. Probably get you off won’t it.”

The man wasn’t expecting Eggsy to actually knee him in the balls, and while he was stumbling and cursing Eggsy was fleeing out the door and jumping the railing to make it down the stairs faster. Two more years. Two more years and he could get out of this shithole for good. 

He didn’t need no fucking soulmate to rescue him, he’d figure out something on his own if he had to.

\--------

By the time he turned eighteen Eggsy didn’t give a fuck about soulmates. That attitude brought him into his twenties, and while he had lingered a few times in front of an agency he’d never actually gone in to pull his records. His soulmate was fifty. Why the fuck would he want anything to do with that. Besides, having a soulmate didn’t do shit for him, he might as well not have one and be done with it. 

So he went through the motions, trying his best to skate by and keeping an eye out on his sister, not dreaming of some fairy tale life. Wrecking Rottweiler’s car had been the first time he’d truly felt free in a long time. He called the number on the back of his medal as he sat in the prison, hoping the man that had given him the medal would at least pick up.

There was nothing else to do but wait, wait then walk out, trying not to show that he was slightly bewildered. It had worked. Three words to a weird number and he was back out on the streets of London.

\--------

“Eggsy.” For years he hadn’t let the name leave his mouth, but now he was watching a young man walk by him, and he couldn’t hold it back any longer. “You finally called.”

Eggsy turned, lips parted slightly and his brow scrunched together in confusion. “Who are you? And why the fuck would I call you?”

Harry could feel his stomach drop but the only outward sign he gave was to close his eyes and take a deep breath. When Eggsy had turned sixteen he had confirmed that their marks matched, and then continued to stay away until his soulmate was ready.

It was only on the truly bad days that he let himself look up news of the boy, letting himself read local news articles about gymnastics or sighing over careers that were over too soon. Wishing he could be with his soulmate but not wanting to put him through the awkwardness of being approached by a man over twice his age.

Surely Eggsy had looked him up though, surely Eggsy knew his name at least if not his face.

"I'm Harry Hart." He let the name fall, hoping it would clear up any confusion in case Eggsy wasn't sure, and then adding "can I give you a lift home?" He couldn't help the offer, couldn't help trying to at least spend a few moments with the younger man. Helping him.

"You gave me this medal, yeah? You knew my dad?"

That was it. No mention of his name, no asking to see his soul mark. Either Eggsy knew the name and he wanted nothing to do with their relationship or he was disgusted by the age difference so much that he wanted nothing to do with it.

Harry would stand by that decision.

"Your father saved my life," he confirmed, and finally Eggsy nodded.

"Where you parked?"

\-------

The older man sitting across from him was infuriating. Infuriating in how he picked apart his life in seconds. Eggsy could argue that Harry didn’t know where he came from, but he also couldn’t deny the truth of the words, couldn’t explain why they stung when he didn’t even know the man. It had to be because he knew his father, or at least, that should be the reason.

But it was hard to focus on that when all he could think about was how he had had those chocolate eyes memorized for years, and they were the exact same as he imagined them. It didn’t explain that he actually noticed the slight droop to the shoulders of the gentleman when otherwise he had perfect posture, almost as if the man was weighed down by some great burden. 

It didn’t explain why he kept sipping so slowly at his pint when ordinarily he’d have at least half of it finished, hoping that maybe they’d both be there until he was done. Or why he was so comfortable with a stranger.

Why he couldn’t stop thinking about the mark on his back, wondering if this man could have been born in 1963, trying to figure out if that was what he meant by finally.

So when the door opened, Dean’s pack in the door, he wanted Harry out of there. “He ain’t joking, you should go,” he told him, urging him with his eyes, trying to send Harry the message to just get out and to save himself, trying not to sigh in relief when Harry set down his cup and stood, making his way to the door.

Then insults were being flung, bodies hurled, and he sat rigidly in the booth as Harry sat down across from him once more, finishing his drink. It was almost as if it were from one of his boyhood dreams, where a knight swooped in, saving him from his life, but he couldn’t let himself dream about that. Still he found himself leaning into the hand on his shoulder, missing it when the weight was gone.

\--------

Harry was livid as he waited for Eggsy to arrive, body quaking with barely concealed fury. He was a fucking idiot. He had been too worried about some small detail such as age and had left his soulmate in the hands of a monster. He’d known about the crime of course, but not about the violence, not about what Eggsy had been exposed to day in and day out. 

It was time to have a conversation, even if the boy didn’t like it. He tried to focus his energy on the finger of whisky left in his glass, swirling it as the door opened.

“I never met a tailor before, but I know you ain’t one.”

He looked up, regarding his soul mate, and said the only words that seemed appropriate. “I’m sorry.”

Confusion was quickly covered up by anger, Eggsy’s stance turning defensive. “I don’t need your fucking pity.”

Harry shook his head slightly, taking the final swallow of his whisky and wishing it gave more courage than it did. “I’m sorry I’m so much older than you. I’m sorry I haven’t been what you needed.” Not that he knew what Eggsy needed, but it wasn’t a life like he’d wound up with.

He watched the realization dawning. “The 10th of September, 1963?” The words were hoarse coming from his throat and Harry nodded while he shrugged off his suit coat. Eggsy didn’t move as he started unbuttoning his shirt, pulling the fabric off of one side and twisting so that his shoulder blade was exposed as he stared at the wall, not able to bear the inevitable disappointment on his soulmate’s face. 

“So, you knew when I was a kid? You just showed up to give me that medal to what, meet me? You recruit my dad to try to get close to me?” Eggsy’s voice was angry, indignant possibly, and rightfully so. It was a lot for a person to take in.

Harry shook his head pulling his shirt back up onto his shoulder and starting to redo the buttons but staying half-turned. “I wasn’t aware until after I left the house. I thought it would be for the best, you had a way to contact me as someone who owed you a debt if you ever needed help, and officially your records were sealed. I shouldn’t have met you until you were able to legally consent to the soul mark.

“Then what? You just figured you didn’t want nothing to fucking do with me? That why you ain’t never shown back up?”

There was no reason anymore to stay turned about so Harry settled into his seat, watching the fury display itself on Eggsy’s face. “Of course not. But I knew you would be able to find me as soon as you wished to. You had the medal, you would have access to the records. I wasn’t going to show up when I know very easily that you might hate the fact that your soulmate was so old. What sixteen year old boy wants a man in his forties as his soulmate?” He shook his head slightly, looking away.

“Why the fuck should you get to decide that? It’s my life, I get a fucking say in the matter,” Eggsy’s voice was rising, and Harry didn’t even try to stop him.

“That’s why I left it up to you, knew you could access the file if you--”

“I thought you didn’t want me.” Eggsy’s words were blunt and sliced through him easily enough. “Figured you didn’t want saddled with no kid, or maybe you looked me up and saw I wasn’t worth nothing. Maybe you was already married, who waits fifty bloody years on someone?”

“I never dated anyone.” He didn’t know how else to respond, didn’t know how Eggsy could think that his soulmate wouldn’t want him. “There were--encounters--for my job but I’ve never sought out a relationship. I’m willing to wait as many years as it takes, even if it means I never have a relationship.”

“You’re an idiot.” The words stung, but Harry accepted them. “Kind of fitting in a way though, sounds like we were both waiting on the other to make a move and being too proud to do shit.”

What was surprising was the way that Eggsy’s voice sounded almost fond, and he took a chance, aiming for humour and hoping he wouldn’t regret it too much.

“It’s almost like we were made for each other.”

He watched closely, rewarded with a soft groan as Eggsy shook his head, but he was starting to smile and the expression was brilliant as it graced his face. 

It was an expression he wanted to keep there, forever, and finally he understood why this nonsense about soulmates was such a big deal. Now was the time to take risks, because he couldn’t let this feeling slip away now that he’d felt it. 

“Listen Eggsy. I don’t want to pressure you about being my soulmate, ideally I never will, but please allow me to offer you a place to live.” He could hear the plea in his own voice, and he didn’t even attempt to disguise it. “I can offer you a safe home, and it is yours if you will simply agree to be there. You can leave whenever you’d like but I would like to know you are well.

Eggsy shrugged, glancing down at the floor. “Yeah, alright. Don’t look like I’ve got many options anyway.”

\--------

His soulmate was a fucking gentleman. He had a nice home in a well-off area and while it was quiet (and there were entirely too many dead creatures on the walls and shelves) it was a nice sort of place. The spare room was a bit dusty and Harry seemed embarrassed as he tried to straighten things that didn’t seem out of order in the first place. 

All in all they fell into an easy rhythm together. Harry seemed to keep late hours, getting up in time for an early lunch and spending the early afternoon around the house before apologizing and slipping away until late, sometimes coming in with deep lines of exhaustion around his eyes and wearing tension like a cloak, other times coming back with pleasant smiles and tales from the office, mostly about a man he’d nicknamed Merlin apparently.

It matched his own hours well enough, sleeping in and learning what it was like to be around someone that seemed actually concerned with his well being. Having the late afternoons free meant he was able to find time to go see his sister whenever he could get his mum to tell him when Dean was gone, and then he could hang out with his mates before heading back to Harry’s house to have a nightcap with the man before they parted ways and went to bed.

After a bit of that he started to get too bored, too much time on his hands. So he started running errands for the tailor shop Harry’s real job (whatever it was) seemed connected to, using his money to try to stock the fridge with groceries here and there (even though it just seemed to exasperate Harry) and join a gym.

Almost everything seemed to be falling into place, and it was frightening as to how easily it happened. How easily things transitioned from awkwardly quiet lunches talking about the most mundane of subjects to Harry legitimately slipping up and revealing he was a spy because he was so comfortable in the conversation they were having. In the beginning they’d both awkwardly insisted on doing the dishes whereas now as soon as lunch was over Eggsy started in on the dishes while Harry cleared the table and then started to dry them without a word said about the chore as they played a ridiculous rhyming game they’d discovered they’d both enjoyed.

He could remember, clear as day, the Tuesday when Harry had moved into the doorway while he was reading the paper (well, the football bits) and told him he’d be back early and all he had said was “have a good day at work, love.” He hadn’t even realized it until Harry had turned and then froze in the doorway and he’d glanced up confused before flushing crimson.

Neither of them said a word about it.

Then there was the day that Harry had been waiting for him when he came back from the gym, eyes troubled as he asked for a moment of his time. “I kissed someone today,” he said solemnly, and Eggsy hated the way his heart clenched painfully. “It was for work, and I hated it even when I did it, but I kissed her.”

He’d looked so troubled, so vulnerable, that Eggsy had cupped his face with his hand and leaned up to press a kiss to his lips. “That’s the only one that matters tonight,” he told him quietly, then moved past him to go throw his clothes in the laundry.

It was scary how easily it all worked, and after a while he stopped waiting for something horrible to happen, stopped flinching when he accidentally broke something or snapped at Harry because the older man just took everything in stride. Sure, they argued, but mostly, by the end of it, all Eggsy could think of was how attractive Harry looked when he was passionate about something, and the fact that they were years apart was starting to mean very little.

\--------

Harry nudged the door shut with his foot as he shrugged out of his suit coat, looking up as Eggsy started down the stairs.

“You’re back early.” 

“I have to leave in a few hours,” he confessed. “Some meglomaniac is testing something tomorrow and they need me to be there to figure out what’s going on. I might not be home for a few days.”

“Don’t stay up waiting for you. Got it.”

Not for the first time Harry thought about the fact that Eggsy would have been a perfect candidate for Kingsman, If Harry had been willing to risk him. For now he simply smiled softly. “Would you like to go out to eat somewhere before I have to leave?”

“If you ain’t needing to pack then sure. You got somewhere in mind?” Harry just shook his head and Eggsy nodded. “We can just walk around until we see something, yeah?”

Two hours later they were still walking around, hands loosely laced together unconsciously, the idea of just snagging something from a vendor becoming increasingly more appealing as they found themselves near Trafalgar Square. 

It was only the time that finally made them turn back and from the good luck kiss Eggsy gave him on his way out the door he had a suspicion that if not for his mission he might have actually seen Eggsy’s soul mark that evening.

\---------

Eggsy was about to head out of the house when his shoulder blade started to sear. With a sharp intake of breath awareness clawed through him and he wrenched off his shirt, scrambling to the bathroom mirror to twist and watch the mark on his shoulder flicker before starting to fade. It was all he could do to lean heavily on the counter.

Then the mark, pale as it was, steadied. Held true.

His breath shuddered through him as he sunk to the floor, hand reaching back to cover the mark as if he could keep it there through sheer pressure alone as throbs of pain continued to flicker through the mark.

\---------

“Eggsy, this is Merlin. I don’t know where you are or why you’re not picking up your phone, but you need to stay in the house. Don’t go outside, don’t let anyone in. Lock the door and get your phone as far away from you as possible if its got one of those Valentine sim cards.”

\---------

Waking up in a strange hospital bed wasn't all that new for Harry. Waking up with someone's hand loosely clutching his was different.

He recognize the obnoxious jacket before he recognized the figure slumped over his bed, and for a long moment he just basked in the simple knowledge that someone was there for him. Someone who didn't care about him as an agent completing his assignment or whether he would be well enough to divert the next catastrophe, but someone that was worried for him.

It took a moment to remember how his body functioned, to tell his muscles to contract and allow his hand to squeeze Eggsy's. He watched the young man startle awake, sitting up abruptly before turning his attention to their hands, tracing that to Harry's wrist, then arm, and finally their eyes were locking together.

"Took you long enough."

"Where am I?" Judging by the way his tongue sat lightly swollen in his mouth some time had passed, but the last thing he remembered was walking out of the church in Kentucky.

"The middle of fucking nowhere. When I dreamed of my first trip overseas it wasn't to this." He looked around the room and practically oozed that he was unimpressed.

"We're in Kentucky?" He was still focused on that fact, trying come to terms with it, and Eggsy gave a slight shrug of his shoulders, reminding Harry that he hadn't let go of his hand.

"Yeah. Used that credit card you said was for emergencies and hopped the first flight I could. Good thing to, I was in the air when the wave went out, so all the mobiles were off. Or at least, I think that's how that probably worked considering Merlin's message."

It made him almost sick to his stomach to hear that Valentine had been successful, and it must have shown on his face.

"From what I gather it was quick. Got ahold of Merlin on my way from the airport and he said that had things taken care of. Said to let him know when you woke up and he'd get us back home. I think I want to meet him when we get back, he sounds like he needs a bit of fun in his life."

Harry gave a tired smirk at the idea, already feeling sleep trying to lull him back to its embrace. "They let you in my room?"

"Made them check our marks and let me in, I don't think they wanted to deal with me for another fucking second when they let me come back. Get some rest, I'll be here when you wake up."

\----------

"Get some rest, I'll be here when you wake up." He smiled down at Harry, squeezing his hand lightly as the older man's eyes drifted shut for the last time. 

Over fifty years. Of course Harry was stubborn enough to stay with him for over fifty. God only knew no one else would have managed to.

He stayed until they ushered him from the room, mark faded so pale it was barely visible except in memory.

**Author's Note:**

> Edit: If you are REALLY upset when you finish...I highly recommend rereading the epilogue bit at the end!
> 
> I adore all of you and I hope you have a fantastic day today!
> 
> If you want to see me over on tumblr I'm Galahard there as well.


End file.
